Page 14 of Retribution
He couldn’t deny the prickle of curiosity that peaked his interest while he watched her turn over her backpack and dump out the rest of the contents on the bed.
“While you’re doing whatever the fuck you’re doing, I’m gonna go to the front desk.”
She didn’t seem to acknowledge him, which was fine since none of this was his problem, at least not up to a point.
“You don’t need to knock when you come back. I’ll be in the shower,” she said.
A flash bang image of her naked and dripping wet shot through his thoughts, and it was a damn nice image at that. With a quick jerk of his hand, he opened the door hard enough that it banged against the wall, and then he walked out, forcing himself not to look back at her.
Cobra strode across the gravel parking lot, his boots kicking up a cloud of dust with each step. There were plenty of broads out in the world, and he didn’t need the one in his room. Fuck, he didn’t need one at all, but sometimes he ended up shacking up with a woman in various towns and cities across the country. He’d stay as little as a few days to several months with different women, but he never fell for any of them. The problem was they’d always fall in love with him, and that’s what usually broke up the union, then he’d pack up his stuff and hit the road.
It wasn’t like Cobra had anything against love, it was more that he just didn’t believe in it for himself. And the fact that he’d never fallen for any of the women who’d littered his life over the years told him that the whole falling-in-love crap was a crock of shit.
Cobra stopped and looked at the salmon-colored hues streaking the sky and his mind drifted to Sylvia. He hadn’t heard from his sister in almost six months. Sylvia always called him when she needed money, and he usually wired her some. He hadn’t seen her since he’d left L.A. at sixteen years old. Then the image ofhisface assaulted his mind.
His father had been a stern and strict disciplinarian, and Cobra had the scars to prove it. A Marine, his father had run the house like a fucking bootcamp. The only respite he and his brother and sister had was when their dad had been deployed overseas.
Cobra reached into his pocket and took out a joint then lit it. The only sanity in their home was their mother. He blew out a stream of smoke.And where the fuck are you, Mom?He snorted and kicked the stones on the ground.
Thinking about his parents brought home the fact that love was a damn myth. He’d loved his mother and she left him, and when he was young he’d loved his father who then hurt him. No … trusting and loving someone equaled pain and heartbreak, so he kept everyone at a distance. That’s the way he liked it.
Another long inhale and a slow, steady exhale. But … Dakota? Cobra wouldn’t mind having some fun with her, but she was fucking off limits for him. He didn’t see her as a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of girl, and he wasn’t down to screw her and then have a stage five clinger on his hands.
Yeah, fuck no, if he needed to get some pussy, he’d give Jenny a call—she still had the hots for him. He’d met Jenny a couple of years before when he’d come through Philipsburg for the motorcycle rally. She was a single mom and worked as a stripper over at the Satin Dolls. They’d seemed to hit it off, so she asked him to move in with her and he did. Four months later, he was packing his stuff while she watched him, her cheeks streaked with tears. Jenny hadn’t believed him when he told her he didn’t love her, so he had to move on. Cobra liked Jenny a lot and hated to hurt her, but he’d told her from the start that what they had was temporary.
A few months after that, Cobra had been in Chicago when Jenny called telling him she missed him and was willing to accept them as friends with benefits. From that point on, he’d send some money to help her and her daughter out, and whenever he’d pass through the town, he’d give her a jingle, but he never shacked up with Jenny because he knew history would repeat itself.
The image of Dakota in the shower pushed out other thoughts in his head. Damn, that girl was a pretty little thing. He chuckled when he recalled how pissed she got when he refused to answer any more questions. Yeah … a woman like that could get under his skin and drive him insane. Make him think crazy shit too, like wanting to feel her writhing under his body as he thrust into her.
Fuck.
He tossed the spent joint on the ground and stubbed it out then walked quickly to the motel office. The frigid blast of air wrapped around Cobra as he strode over to the front desk. The same pain-in-the-ass teenager stood behind the counter. The kid eyed him up and down as if the teen hadn’t seen Cobra before. The kid’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and his fingers hovered under the counter, probably near an emergency button that would call the badges.
Cobra was used to the treatment; it came with the territory of having a patch on his back. Nomad or not, people were easily spooked over shit they didn’t understand.
“Do you got any extra pillows and a blanket back there?”
“Uh, lemme see …” The kid trailed off, not moving an inch from where he was standing.
Cobra coughed into his fist and widened his stance. A clear I-don’t-have-all-fucking-day signal. The teen scurried away, disappearing down the hall. Cobra thrummed his fingers on the counter, trying to keep the rising anger inside him at bay. He wanted to get back to the room, take a short nap, and then get out on the streets to gather intel for the club. He was in a better position to find shit out than his brothers, who were a couple of hours away. He also wanted to swing back to Duffy’s to make sure those shitheads didn’t get any funny ideas again.
“Here.” The desk attendant shoved over a thin blanket and a lumpy pillow without a cover on it. “That’s all we had in the supply closet. Things are tight tonight. I guess no one wants to be lonely.” A stupid grin cracked the teenager’s face.
Cobra stared at him until the grin disappeared, then he gathered up the blanket and pillow and pushed away from the counter.
“Thanks,” he said, opening the front door.
“How’s that lady doing?” the kid asked.
“Fine.”
The door slammed before the desk attendant could ask any more questions, and Cobra headed back to the room. He wondered if Dakota was finished showering, but he threw the thought out of his head because he didn’t need to be thinking aboutthatright before he got to the room. Cobra didn’t know much about his pretty roommate, but even after having known her for less than twenty-four hours, he knew one thing for damn sure—she was running from something or someone.
Cobra had spent the majority of his life doing the same damn thing, so it took one runner to know another one. As long as Dakota didn’t involve him past the point where they were at now with each other, everything would be all right between them.
There was being a gentleman, and then there was being an idiot. Whatever secrets she wanted to keep hidden could stay that way but she needed to respect his as well. It would be a delicate dance, but he knew the steps.
As long as he didn’t trip and fall into her bed in the middle of the night, they would be golden.
He opened the door and walked into the room.
